Client
by LSL and rubberducky64
Summary: AU. YamiBakuraxKaibaxJonouchi --- Kaiba Seto gets what he wants, period. But this time, Kaiba is going to need some help from a very unlikely place - the streetwalkers of Domino City... and help doesn't come cheap. By LSL
1. The Gig

Title: _Client_

Rating: R

Author: LukeSkywalkersLady (LSL)

Summary: Kaiba Seto gets what he wants, period. But what happens when what he wants doesn't want him?

Warning/Notes: AU, slash (pairing S/J, R/YB, implied Y/YY and Hontogi), some possible future OoCness, language, minor violence and the prospect of seeing Yami Bakura in a whole new light. Based off of a song 'Bedroom Toys' by Duran Duran.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or anything in any way shape or form related to it, I do not own the song 'Bedroom Toys' by Duran Duran. Read at your own risk - not that you should be worried, or anything. Riiiight….

-…-…

"Bakura! Get your act together - you're on next!"

"Oh my God, Mr. Furuka, me and the girls aren't ready!"

"I don't give a damn about you and the rest of the girls– BAKURA! Out there, NOW!"

"Furuka, baby, give them a fucking second to get their clothes on-"

"Yeah, Mr. Furuka, just wai- SHIT! MY LIPSTICK!"

"BAKURA! YOU'RE ON!"

"Imbecile."

"IT'S YOUR CHECK, NOT MINE!"

"Fine. Oy, girls - ah one, a two, ah one two three! We're on!"

"Yeah!"

-…-…

Bakura dashed onto the stage in the dim lighting, the scuffling of feet all around him as his backup girls arranged their formation. A little smile was perched upon his thin lips- he had been doing this gig for years, ever since…

The opening bars of the song drifted out over the speakers located at either end of the familiar, worn stage. Lights brightened so the audience could see, and then the girls started singing.

_You want it, you got it… now what you gonna do with it?_

_You want it, you got it… now what you gonna do with it?_

The girls started spreading out of their formation, but still keeping Bakura in the center as he started to sing, winking at a girl in the crowd.

_I been around the world_

_I seen a lot of things_

_That'd make your chicken curl_

The microphone was held loosely in his hand as he sang; he obviously knew what he was doing. The confident, relaxed stance Bakura had made his audience relax as well, and he could tell they were hanging on to every word he said.

_You're squeezing like boys and teasing like girls_

_Confusing like boys and girls_

This song always made him remember that one job he had, all those years ago… always made him smile when he thought about the arrogance and determination humans had. That particular human had, he corrected himself. He'd never forget his name, never.

_Plan an exit route, parachute, rubber suit_

_Are you ready for a little swim?_

Kaiba Seto. The 'client' with the most peculiar job for him he had ever had. Needless to say, Bakura had been paid well, but what Kaiba had wanted… it went beyond mere pleasurable company. He had wanted Bakura's help in a farfetched matchmaking scheme, if it could even be called that.

_There's regular…queen size…flip it on the B side… _

The audience always laughed at that particular line, the way Bakura had been motioning the words had changed and he had gestured to himself at 'flip it on the B side'… har har har.

_Solid gold_

This gig explained so well the details of that case… it was uncanny. The first time Bakura had heard the song, he had passed it off a sheer coincidence. But no, it had to have been something more than that. That was why he chose to leave his pervious profession to seek employment singing that song at nightclubs and bars.

_Oh my God, what's this?_


	2. Previous Job

**Notes: **Well, this is an experimental chapter (actually, chapter II) for a story _Client _if you didn't already guess the title (-.o""). The reason I don't have the first actual chapter up here is because my computer crashed while I was perfecting it, and it lost everything I had done on it. Why didn't I rewrite it? ehh... i was lazy. And I wanted to see how the story would do. Besides, it was more like the prologue anyway. so THERE. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or anything related to it in this story, I do not own Duran Duran or their song 'Bedroom Toys' of which this fanfiction is based of of and uses. I do however own this story and any peoples who wish to use the text or ideas from this fanfiction must ask permission from the author (LSL). Thank you._

**_WARNINGS: This story contains slash, or m/m relationships. If this isn't your thing, and are either against it or aren't comfortable with it, please, don't read and then criticize. Actually, just don't read at all. _**

_- -_

Bakura walked down the street just before twilight, jacket slung over one shoulder and his shirt unbuttoned just enough to _not_ appear sexy. He hated the stares he got when he dressed like this – all the girls ogled him, and it wasn't his idea of a good time, no, it was his darker half's. But it was the very same darker half that kept food on the table, disgraceful profession or not.

It was the ogles of the girls – and occasionally men – that determined if this evening's crowd was willing. Bakura would drive into downtown Domino, and then line up with the rest of the competition, hoping someone would take notice of the teen with the long, white hair and the lithe form.

When someone did pull up beside him, Bakura would go to work, charging15,000 yen an hour. Low rates, considering what the competition demanded. One person Bakura knew wanted 75,000 yen for a half hour, when Bakura could do the same quality job.

Why didn't he charge more? First off, it was suicide to change your rates, especially if you had regulars like Bakura did. He was known for what he did among the circles of people who were able to pay more than he asked, and they always did. _If_ they were impressed.

Looks were everything in this business. If you got it, flaunt it, and maybe somebody will like it, and Bakura always flaunted it. For the males, it was all about tight pants, undone button down shirts, and something personal that makes it unique. Bakura had his marvelous hair, and a black messenger bag slung over his shoulder, the contents of which were presumably 'unknown' (though they were fairly obvious).

The way he presented himself was also an affair. He had his territory - the competition had theirs. Though most of it overlapped, there were certain places that were off-limits. Bakura, being a legend in that profession, had his own street, which he shared with only his protégés. Some of his friends working a few blocks away would occasionally pass up a client to direct them to him, and Bakura owed a pretty few favors at any given moment.

Well, tonight it seemed there was a willing supply of clients.

Bakura sighed inwardly as two middle-aged businessmen glanced his way and checked their wallets.

It was going to be a long night.


	3. Desk Job

Kaiba Seto hunched over his desk, files strewn everywhere and his laptop speakers making feeble bleeps at him from under the mounds of papers.

Jacket thrown carelessly behind him, sleeves rolled up and shoelaces untied, the young man's concentrations were currently fixated on a single report which he held loosely in his hands, not sure what to make of it.

This was something that for the first time in his life, made Kaiba not know what to do.

He had known ever since the start that his company was slowly dying, he had known that years before he had been adopted. But childishly thinking that maybe if he just ignored it that it would just go away had now caught up with him. This paper had on it the company profit for that year… and it had a negative sign in front of the number.

A negative sign in front of a very _large_ number.

"Shit," Kaiba murmured as he stared at the paper.

And that, my dear friend, was the truest thing he had ever murmured.

-

LSL: I apologize for the shortness- this was pretty much a filler. I have the next chapter ready, and if you click the pretty purple button, the next chapter is yours to read!


	4. New Job

In all his experience, Bakura had never seen a car like that one drive down the street at night.

Rather, _this _street at _this _time of night. The street where the elite lay, and the time where all the competition was at its best.

The car was a fancy sportscar; and though many a nice vehicle had passed through this section of the city looking for someone to hire, never a car of this luxury. Blue, with two white racing stripes. Brand new. Or appeared to be.

The competition eyed the car hungrily, but Bakura knew how to get a client like this. One had to be very subtle – glance at the car like you think it's a worthless piece of trash and walk indifferently down the street, not once looking back over your shoulder.

Bakura did just this, and even so he was surprised as the sportscar pulled up beside him, rolling down its tinted window.

The driver wore dark glasses – obviously expensive – in a futile attempt to hide his identity. At once Bakura knew who this was, and he smirked as the driver quickly gestured at the passenger seat, and Bakura laughed inwardly as he climbed in and shut the door behind him.

They had driven a little ways before the driver spoke.

"What do you charge." This wasn't a question – this was a command.

"Fifteen thou an hour, _sir_," Bakura teased. This to him was hysterical - out of all the people who could be in the driver's seat, this man, this man who had made so many people's lives hell, had decided to give himself a bonus and spend it on a goddamned prostitute!

"Funny. Here's your payment then." The driver tossed a wad of bills at Bakura – he had evidently preplanned this.

Bakura unfolded the clump of money and started to count.

10,000…

20,000…

50,000…

"Shit, baby, there's got to be over 350 in the whole stack!" Bakura exclaimed. "What the hell are you planning to do with me?"

"I'm taking you out to dinner."


	5. New Job, part II

"You're going to WHAT?" Bakura laughed. This was insane – first he's hired by the one person who should be the _last_ person to hire him, paid more than he'd made all of last year, and now he was going to be taken out to dinner in what he assumed was going to be a five-star restaurant.

"I said, I'm taking you out to dinner. We have business to discuss." The driver said, uneasily shifting his glasses.

Bakura crossed his legs, adjusting his bag, and proceeded to inform the driver of the obvious.

"Look, unless you haven't realized, I'm a goddamned _prostitute_! My business is discussed in the bedroom, or wherever you happen to prefer! I'm not exactly found in five fucking star restaurants! And especially not with _you!_"

The man made no sound, just smoothly pulled into the parking lot of _Le Marseilles _restaurant. It was indeed, a "five fucking star restaurant".

They both sat in the car, waiting for the other to make the first movement.

Then the driver spoke.

"I wouldn't have anything to do with you if I didn't need your expertise."

"I figured. But you say expertise – I said – and you know - I'm a fucking prostitute. My body is my trade. My skills are my knowledge. What the hell do you need with me?"

"Button your shirt up and leave your bag in the car." The man opened the door and started to walk towards the building.

Taken aback at this sudden action, Bakura slammed his door shut and laughed in amazement as he jogged to catch up with him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? There is no way in hell I'm going in there! And do you also realize what'll happen when people see me in there with you? I'm not just some pretty face on the street – how do you fucking _think_ you heard of me? Through business associates? Through employees of your bloody company?"

Suddenly, the driver whipped around and pressed a hand over Bakura's mouth to shut him up.

"You will not," he hissed, "utter a single word until I give you the O-K. When you _do _speak, I will not hear a single profanity, and I will not hear you mention your profession. You will act with dignity, and you _will not tell anyone of what happens tonight._ Understand?"

Nodding, Bakura breathed deeply when the man released him.

"Good," the man whispered, and they resumed the task of entering the building.

One they were in, the _maitre'd _hurried over to them and began to speak.

"Excuse me, sirs, do you have a reservation?"

The driver nodded. "Yes, it should be" – he pointed at the list the waiter was holding – "here."

"Ah, yes, I see. This way, Mr. Kaiba."

LSL: I KNOW! I'm a bad authoress. Not updating in forever, leaving you with a cliffie, and not having the next chapter (or plot, at that) done! But I WILL finish this fic. And I WILL get it updated. At least, I'll try... XD lol I 3 you all!


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